Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow
by Sonic19902
Summary: Shadow wakes up confused and alone in the horrifying world of Sonic Hill. Unknowing of who and where he is, he sets off to find the answers. But he may soon find that maybe the truth wasn’t worth knowing after all. (Sonic Hill 2: DX Prequel-COMPLETE)
1. Lost

**A/N (skip all this to the bottom italicized text if you don't care): **_Took longer to write this than I expected it to, but here it is at last. The second andfinal part of the Sonic Hill series I'm writing is here. I _strongly_ suggest you read my other fic, Sonic Hill 2: DX, ere read this, since this is pretty much a short prequel/subplot to it, and will contain huge spoilers and stuff to the main fic._

**Disclaimer: **_While many of the things in this fic are mine, as a whole it and it's sequel are based off the Born From A Wish Subscenario in the Xbox and Greatest Hits Playstation 2 version of Silent Hill 2: Restless Dreams, created by Konami. This is basically my novelization of the series with Sonic characters, add ins, tie ins, and references. All Sonic-related characters are copyright of Sonic Team._

**Warning: **_This fic contains some slightly sexual situations, gore, suicidal thoughts, yaoi, and some other crap people generally get all anal about. If any of this bothers you to the point where you can't read it, then…well, don't. Duh. Hope ya enjoy!_

-

-

-

-

Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow

Chapter 1: Lost

-

…Tails…

His eyes opened wide.

Darkness encompassed his thin form, slightly tinted by the presence of weak blue light flowing from somewhere nearby. His awakening was scant of comfort – the ice-cold flooring he lay on was about as inviting as the heavy object in his hand.

'_Where am I?_'

A wave of confusion hit him as he looked down upon his unfamiliar black-furred body. His thin torso and abdomen stretched down to his proportionally long athletic legs that ended at his feet, which were concealed within a pair of new-looking white, black, gold, and red colored boots. He didn't recognize it, not at all.

Unnerving as it was, he couldn't deny what lie in his right gloved hand. A single fully loaded magnum revolver lay enclosed between his fingers. Without a sound, he sat up, groggily scanning his surrounding environment for the first time he could remember.

A bar? Maybe even a strip club. He couldn't tell, this place wasn't familiar at all, and there didn't appear to be anybody around to answer his barrage of questions what would soon follow. Placing the gun unconfidently on the floor, he stared down at his now empty hand. Yet another question was born.

'Who _am I?_'

-

"When I woke up, I was alone."

The black hedgehog's reflection stared back into his crimson red eyes, a lost expression inscribed on his ashen face. He'd been here for what felt like ages—though it was probably for no more than an hour—and still the bar did not look in the least bit familiar, nor did the image he saw in the mirror before him.

Inside, it was disturbingly silent and lonely, and that sense of seclusion was only one hundred times worse outside. The fading blue lights in the back of the room alerted him that it really was a sort of strip club ('_S-n-w Gay B-r'_ he repeated the name in his head for the third time). But if it was a public place, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. The cold streets outside were so foggy he could barely see more than five feet in front of him, so perhaps that would explain why no one was around. But the bar didn't_ feel_ like it had been occupied in ages. Dust had collected in heaps atop the rather messy looking area, and the blue lights flashing the bars name like an advertisement looked like they were within an hour of their death. It was lonely, and he didn't like that. He didn't like that at all.

"I don't know where everybody went, or where I am even right now. Not even my own reflection looks familiar…"

Shadow was his name; some strange hidden knowledge had reared its head for a moment to tell him that at least. It came naturally, though if it was his real name or not he didn't know. It was something to hold onto though, something he could at least know. From what he could see of his reflection in the mirror in the back of the main pub he sat at, his red-striped black spines stuck up in a very cool gravity-defying fashion. His eyes scared him slightly – they were just as naturally unnerving as the stripes on his body. A thick white patch of fur covered a small part of his chest, which contrasted with the rest of his body. The skin on the lower furless half of his face was a pale, almost ghost-like white. He must have been laying in the dark for a long time without the aid of the sun for it to turn that white, he guessed.

"I must have worked or lived here before, but…"

His own voice's deepness didn't cease to surprise him every time he spoke, as well.

"Everything's just a blank. It feels so cold and empty…like no one's been in this town for years." Placing his hand on his forehead, he stared down at the mangled wooden surface he leaned on. "Something's very wrong here. Am I the only one left? What happened to everybody?…and who's Tails?"

'_Tails…_'

Like his own name, that one came naturally. Whoever he or she was, and where he or she is, was a complete mystery. But he knew it was somebody. Somebody…

'—_from my past?_' he wondered. '_I don't know…_'

What he _did_ know was that this place felt unsafe. Something about the bar—about this town—felt extremely creepy, and it wasn't just the emptiness or the weather. It unnerved him, and he didn't like that at all.

The half-empty bottle of liquor made a discreet thud when he placed it back down on the counter. Somehow, its taste just didn't satisfy him.

"I've got to get out of here."

'_But where do I go? Where _can _I go?_'

"I don't know…but there's got to be someone out there…"

'_Tails?_'

"Maybe."

'_You don't even know he is._'

"But at least it's something, something to hold onto. It's so lonely here…I need to find someone…"

Stepping off the chair, he took a glance at the surrounding area once more. As much as he hated the idea, he felt that the magnum revolver he'd woken up beside on the floor would be needed. It was something safe, but even with that his paranoia wouldn't cease. Something was really weird about this place, and he didn't want to take any chances.

There was a warm black leather jacket hung on the hook in the far corner of the bar, looking like it was left behind by accident. It was a good thing for him though. Shadow grabbed the jacket and tied it around his waist tightly. It was cold here, but he also needed something somewhat stable to holster his gun in, so he had to improvise. Picking up the moderately heavy weapon, he shoved it in between the jacket's arm and his waist, wedging it into place.

'_Only six bullets, and it's not like you even know how to use this thing properly._'

He needed a weapon more concrete than that. His footsteps dully clunked through the dimly lit place as he walked back to the main pub and looked underneath the counter. Luckily for him, there was a large shiny meat cleaver resting peacefully on the bottom shelf. It joined his revolver in the space around his waist.

'_Okay, that's more like it I guess._'

And as if someone up there was watching over him that day, he spotted a third item of use on the end of the counter: a map.

'_That's strange, I don't remember seeing that before…_' he thought to himself. '_Doesn't matter I guess._' He walked up to the map and stared down on it, feeling rather relieved to see the outskirts of the town weren't too far away from his current location: only a few blocks away. According to what was written in the top of the map, over the great Lake Toluca, the town's name was Sonic Hill.

'_Sonic Hill…_' Strange. That name felt slightly familiar too. Perhaps that was a good thing – his memory may be coming back to him in small doses after all.

Shadow folded the map and stored it with his other two items. Feeling at least a little more confident in himself, he looked at the gay bar's front door.

'_Please, somebody, be out there…I need you._' He frowned sadly, feeling barely less lost and alone than he did when he reentered the world of consciousness. With a slight idea of what to do now though, living seemed a little easier, at least. A little. '_Time to get out of here._'

Pushing the door open, Shadow exited the bar, determined to get as far away from the town as possible, find this Tails, and finally get some answers.

Little did he know that when he returned, he'd be forced to make the hardest decision of his short, short life.


	2. Fear

Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow

Chapter 2: Fear

-

It was cold. Very cold.

Shadow rubbed his arms and shivered as he stepped down the sidewalk. Considering how cold it was inside, it sure felt a hell of a lot worse outside. The whole town was disorienting. Everywhere he looked, he could only see fog, endless, ever-vexing fog that made the whole world look confined to his small ten-foot-wide field of vision.

As his misty puffs of breath faded into the air, he took note of the fact that the roads were pretty clear. Not a good sign, but at least he wasn't chained to the somewhat littered sidewalk in that case.

'_I sure as hell ain't seeing nearly enough cars to supply even a small town…_' he thought to himself. '_Or _life _for that matter, but that's to be expected._'

While the map was definitely helpful, its accuracy of the town's dimensions was far from perfect. What looked like a short walk down the street was really a rather long one. It didn't feel like he was moving anywhere at all, since pretty much everything looked exactly the same. It'd most likely seem less so if he could see where he was going. His "march" had lasted about ten minutes so far, and he was only a few blocks away from the bar.

There was a large barbed wire fence blocking off the north part of town from the bar, and the tunnel leading to the more discrete western area was blocked off by construction too. He had a bad feeling in his stomach that the tunnel leading to East South Vale would conform to its brother also, because if it was that meant he'd have to take the long way around town. And he sure as hell couldn't take walking around the barren streets for _that_ long without getting lost, or going crazy.

"It's so quiet…" Though he was whispering, it felt like he was practically yelling. His footsteps and small puffs of respiration had so far been the only noise he'd heard in over ten minutes. Needless to say, that made him feel only more uneasy. Even abandoned places shouldn't be _this_ silent. Not urban places, not rural places, and certainly not tourist-attracting lake resorts.

'_Everybody's gone, dead—_'

-**_THUD!_**

His body went erect, in an instant. For a moment he thought that was the sound of his own heart, exaggeratedly loud in response to that horrible and blunt thought. But no, hearts can't be that loud. No not at all no—

'—_something hard hit the ground not too far away._'

Was that even him thinking this time? It felt more like some sort of outer all-knowing voice inside his head, rather than his own. Whoever it was, Shadow realized to his own discomfort, it was probably right. That noise sounded off from an area out of his vision.

He couldn't tell if it was himself or the environment when the temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees, either. He shivered again and rubbed his arms, wishing he'd had enough pocket space to wear the jacket around his torso rather than tie it around his waist.

"H-hello?" Shadow stared forward, his deep voice penetrating the silence not without a streak of fear in it. The fog still covered his view, but he could hear something _moving_. "Is anybody there?"

Whatever was alive in front of him, it didn't intend to be stealthy. Shadow's eyes widened in terror as a blood-curdling cry he couldn't even describe emitted from what had to be less than fifteen feet away. A strange electrical fluid seemed to seep through his veins. He took a step backwards—not even really noticing that he had—and squinted, attempting to see through the gray as best as he could.

And he sure did - regretting it immediately. The silhouette of the creature stumbled towards him, materializing into his vision in a ghostlike fashion. His description of its body could not be valid – it didn't look like it had any features whatsoever on it, probably because it was still so far away. But from what he could tell, there was a trail of some liquid flowing out of its rear end.

"Are you—" He didn't even have to finish his sentence to know it certainly was not okay. No living thing could look like that and still be _alive_, let alone walking towards him.

-_Clop…_

-_Clop…_

-_Clop…_

-_Clop…_

At first he thought it may be a zombie, and even that seemed like an insane thought. But it looked far, far worse than that. Its lacerated body gave off the impression of a possibility that it was once human—or anthro, even—but there were few remains left to tell. Its arms were binded together as if it was wearing a straightjacket, but its arms also happened to be melded into its torso. That wasn't a good sign at all, no not good not good not good not good—

'—_oh my god…_'

Its face had no features on it whatsoever; neither did the rest of its body, like its silhouette had insinuated. Only a tiny hole where the nose should be was there. It limped closer to him with redness oozing out of its rear end and dripping onto the ground behind.

"_Ooooooohhhh!_" it moaned with unseen vocal cords once again, right before it leaned forward and vomited steaming blackness out of its throat and onto the icy pavement.

Shadow put his hand to his mouth and felt as if he was going to add his own share of bile onto the street. Stepping backwards even more, he subconsciously reached for the revolver on his waist. "

please…s-stay away…"

But it didn't, not very much to his surprise. It continued to lurch forward at him with a drunken composure. That seemed to melt the ice of fear in his mind, spilling out oceans of terror. It all ran down to his legs and he bolted forward. Before the monster could even react to his movements, he had already sprinted past it with admirable speed. His heavy boots clinked awkwardly against the ground, but he was running alright, and a lot faster than he thought he could too. The sudden panic worked like a dashboard, and he was sprinting even faster without even thinking about slowing down. All he wanted right now was to get the hell away from that—

He skidded to a halt and stared forward in bewilderment once again. The skinless straightjacket man was now little more than five feet in front of him.

'_What the…? How did it do _that"

"_eeeeeIIIIIIIEEEEEE!_"

Another one, to his right, stumbled off the sidewalk and into the middle of the road towards him.

'_How many of them are there?_'

-**_THUD!_**

His body spun around, whipping the magnum out from his side, pointing, and squeezing the trigger hard on the monster behind him before he even knew what he was doing. Its face disappeared in a gruesome explosion of gore, splattering onto the cold pavement behind it. The stunning punch of the recoil knocked the weapon out of Shadow's hand and fell to the pavement along with the creature's body. He picked it back up and turned around again quickly, keeping his mind and eyes off what he'd just done as best as he could. He was barely even thinking right now, running off of pure instinct.

But a wave of rationality washed over his burning panic, a split second before he would have blown the second straightjacket monster in front of him to bits.

'_STOP!_' He stared at it for a moment like an unsure lunatic, listening to what that voice in his head was telling him. '_You only have _five _bullets_ _left!_'

Mr. Rationality was right. They hadn't even attacked him yet, and he was acting like they had jagged claws and were surrounding him by the dozens. The two beside him were mere feet away now, and their friendliness proves as trustworthy as their cadaverous bodies. They leaned back to vomit on him, but he was already running before they had a chance to.

The crisp air stung the back of his throat while he panted lightly. Panic had thankfully subsided greatly, but he was still on edge. Every ten feet he could see another one of them out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps he would have been better off just staying at the bar after all…

His sprint ended when he reached an empty intersection. No monsters could be seen in his shortened field of vision, so he decided to stop for a second and check the map again before he got lost. Whipping the paper out, he examined it to find he was quite close to one of the exits. He was on Stiles St. apparently, which went east for a while till the intersection he was on now, which crossed with LeCompt St. If he went North of here—up LeCompt St.—he'd reach Doggie Avenue after a while. That was the main road of the Sonic Hill South Vale borough, he guessed, judging from the length and width of it. It went across Rosewater Park, a bunch of random buildings, and circled around the Lake Toluca until it reached North Sonic Hill. If he went south—down LeCompt St.—he'd reach the Griffin Tunnel, which led right out of town.

A moan in the distance. Shadow took his eyes off the map and saw yet another straightjacket monster limping towards him about twelve feet away. It was barely visible through the layers of fog. Taking the tunnel was definitely the better choice, so he shoved the map back into his jacket arms and sprinted down the right lane.

About ten seconds later he stopped, feeling a little too drained to keep running at top speed. Fear got the best of him, he guessed. For now it was okay if he just walked, as long as the road didn't have too many monsters on it at least…

Unfortunately, it did. He could three of them right now; one to his left, and the others coming from the rear. Most frustrated than scared now, he began jogging slowly towards the tunnel, until…

"Erg, no…"

Shadow lost another layer of his dying hope when he saw what lie ahead. A big chain-link fence encircled on its top by barbed wire blocked off the tunnel entrance. "Who would put a fence here?"

Sighing, he turned around and jogged back up LeCompt St. So much for that plan – he'd have to find another way.

'_Okay, maybe if I can take this up to Doggie Avenue, then go east…If it's not blocked off, I can either take Doggie Avenue out of town or the forest path. Either way should work…_' He stopped for a second, surprised at how he'd managed to practically memorize the map with only three glances. '_That's weird…I think my memory must be coming back or something. Maybe I really did live here in the past…_'

After jogging and evading for a few more minutes than he thought he would be, Shadow's hope was destroyed once again. There was yet another chain-link fence, this one blocking his path to Doggie Avenue.

"Ugh…" he muttered in aggravation. "Now which way am I going to go?"

He examined the map over again, trying to find another route he hadn't tried yet. He could take the tunnel across Stiles St., but that was barricaded, leaving him only with Mission St. And _that _was fenced off too. He was shit out of luck.

'_Wait…_'

There was a rather large gray square right around where he should be standing right now. Two words were typed over it.

'**Boyd Mansion**'

Hugging the southeastern half of the mansion was an L-Shaped alleyway, which headed up north past the Creekside apartments and right into Doggie Avenue. Shadow raised an eyebrow in interest. If the mansion was big enough to be that noticeable on the map, whoever owned it must have been pretty damn rich. But that didn't matter, what did was that it might be his way out of here. From the looks of it, if he went through the mansion and exited it via the back door, he could take the L-shaped alleyway to the other end of the main road, then proceed his escape from this insane place.

'_If those monsters don't have arms—_' Shadow stopped himself for a moment, realizing with disgust the bluntness of that thought. '—_it means they can't open doors, which means they probably can't follow me into that house._'

'_But what if there are some_ in _there?_' Another part of his mind, Mr. Paranoia, cried.

'_Shut up, that doesn't matter. It's better than staying out here. Besides, it's my only option – all the goddamn roads are blocked._' A discontent sigh emitted from his icy lips. It was true; he really didn't have a choice either way. '_This isn't my day…_'

The door to the private driveway of the residence stood halfway open on the sidewalk on his right, to his luck. If it was locked earlier it didn't really matter, because he could get in either way. He slipped in and peered into the much less foggy but equally empty block of space that was the driveway. If there were any cars here, they must have been in the garage. The large garage door was on the opposite end of him, obviously, but it couldn't be opened without a remote so he didn't bother trying to pull it up. There was a black gated door in the left corner though, which he guessed lead into the mansion's courtyard. Shutting the driveway door behind him, he walked up to the courtyard gate and pulled it open, turning around the corner and stepping in—

He almost screamed at what he saw.

Blood was splattered all over the stone flooring, along with sprinkles of crimson along the plants and walls too. In the middle of the courtyard lay the corpse of what must have once been a full-grown male squirrel. His crimson-stained body was as bruised and beaten as the straightjacket monsters', though it lacked the slick absence of ripped flesh.

Speaking of which, one of the straightjacket men stood above it, looking directly at Shadow with its faceless head. The creature leaned back for a moment, and Shadow covered his eyes with his gloved hands with lightning quick reflexes. Had he seen the monster puke its own insides out onto the battered corpse, he knew he would have thrown up too.

A moment later his hands tore away from his face, instantly grabbing for the magnum and pointing it forward at the creature. Enough bullets or not, he didn't care. _Fuck_ the bullets. Later on he'd decide that that disgusting thing shouldn't be alive.

-**_BANG!_**

The gun roared, and when Shadow opened his eyes half of the straightjacket monster's shoulder was gone. A spray of more blood coated the withered flowers behind it, along with tatters of its dead flesh…

Shadow turned away, not even wanting to register the thought. He couldn't tell if the monster was alive or laying on the floor or what now, because he was already running for the front double doors of the mansion to his right. They opened, thank goodness, and he charged into the front hall. The doors cried with pain when he slammed them closed and put his back against them, panting slightly.

He was inside, and it was safe from the looks of it, but he didn't want to take any chances. Running up to the cupboard to his immediate left, he dragged it across the boarded flooring and into the path of the door, creating an improvised barricade. This way, that thing couldn't get in.

'_…not that the doors open inward anyway._' He couldn't help but chuckle at that. It seemed almost a relief to be able to.

Turning around, he finally got a good look at the mansion's foyer. It was a pretty tidy T-shaped corridor, the center part being about ten feet wide. Plenty of room for a crowd of people to walk around comfortably in, let alone a single family. Above where he stood, a very small section of the second floor could be seen. It looked like some sort of bridge or something that overlooked the foyer. The two windows on that floor acted as the only source of light in the whole place, casting a dark gray shadow over everything.

Shadow placed his hands on his face like a horn and called out. "_Is anybody in here?_"

His voice sounded almost deafeningly loud as it shattered the building's silence. Unfortunately, his call proved to be useless. No response came at all. Discontent but not surprised, Shadow walked forward towards the small table in the middle of the foyer. His leather jacket wrapped around his waist loosened its knot a bit and began to drag across the floor behind him. He re-tightened the arms and stopped at the double doors parallel to the front door.

To his left was a short hallway that ended at a brown door, and too his right was another hall with two doors in it. One of them probably led to the garage, but he wasn't sure where the other one led. Either way, what was more important was getting to the back of the house. And the most straightforward approach would be going through the double doors in front of him probably.

They opened up into what appeared to be a living room, though it was hard for him to tell. It was pitch black within the windowless room, the only light coming from the opened doorway he stood in now. He could make out a couch with its back facing him, perhaps a sofa right beside it. In front of that was a coffee table—a pretty generic layout really—and in front of that a very classical looking stone fireplace. A few cabinets and cupboards aligned the room, along with quite a few small bookcases. All of it was encased in a thick layer of dust. This room hadn't been entered in a long time, clearly. How long was the town dead like this anyway?

If there were any answers within the confines of this old mansion, he wouldn't be able to see them. Trying the light switch beside the door had no effect—the power was out, not too surprisingly. And with no flashlight or anything, he didn't stand a chance of walking around the place without tripping over something and getting lost. And if there really were monsters inside…all creeping along the shadows, ready to pounce upon their next unfortunate victim…

Shadow shook his head, trying not to think about that. He wouldn't die like that, he refused to except that idea. Just the idea of dying, period, seemed preposterous.

'_Light. I need light._'

An idea came to mind. One that seemed rather logical. That fireplace was right in front of him; maybe there'd be some matches somewhere in here…

Leaving the door ajar so he could get the little light he needed, Shadow cautiously entered the living room. Reluctantly, he circled around the couch and stopped in front of the fireplace. Black shapes were all he could see, but a particular rectangular one on the mantle caught his interest. Wishing Lady Luck actually might exist, he grabbed for it and was pleased to see the world around him burst with a somewhat decent glint of light. His finger pressed against the top of the lighter, expelling the small flame and illuminating his pale face against the dark shadows around him.

'_Thank god._' He smiled slightly. While a flashlight would serve him much better, a lighter would do fine. At least it gave him the under-appreciated pleasures of vision back.

There was no firewood in the fireplace—and it was covered by iron bars anyway—but there were duel candles on both sides of the mantle, each standing over where he'd spotted the lighter like eerie guards. Holding the gold-plated lighter within his grip, he lit both candles, supplying him with an even greater (though still lackluster) view of his surroundings. All his insinuations of what lie in the room were correct, though he did notice two new things of interest. A normal wooden door stood on both ends of the room, each leading to god-only-knows where. His feet guided him, lighter in hand, to the left door. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and turned it, feeling disappointment in the results. The knob didn't move at all – it must be locked.

So, he turned to the other door. Walking across the room, he reached it and tried the knob. In contrast to its partner, this one opened. Good – he'd be beyond frustrated if it didn't.

No doors were in sight in this new room though, only a coat hanger and a stairway that led up to the second floor. Better than nothing. He began to ascend the stairway, hearing the crickets of Old chirping beneath his feet with every step. Yep: this place definitely wasn't made recently. If its dusty interior didn't tell that, its classical design did.

Thirteen steps, a turn, thirteen more steps, and he was on the second floor. Two more doors—he was already getting tired of doors—were in this small corridor. One was right in front of him, and the other was to his left. There was a third door actually, hugging the wall beside the one in front of him, but it was very thin, so he guessed it was just some sort of closet that wasn't worth checking. The door ahead probably wouldn't lead anywhere near the back of the mansion, but he didn't really have any choice but to check it out. Three steps forward, and he grasped the handle. Turning it quickly, he began to pull it open—

When suddenly, as if it received a magnetic jolt, it slammed back shut. A small yelp of surprise escaped his lips, a yelp that sounded almost humorously helpless coming from his baritone voice. A little confused, he grabbed the handle again and pulled. This time though, it didn't move at all – something on the other side was holding it closed.

"…is someone in there?" Shadow asked questionably. With excited quickness, he knocked repeatedly on the door's wooden surface. "Hello?"

No response.

He knocked again. "Is anyone there?"

Still no response.

"Hello…?" he repeated, notably more helpless sounding.

Silence.

Discontent, he looked down sadly and whispered. "I guess not…"

"Stop it please."

His ears perked up with surprise. The voice of what sounded like an old man emitted from behind the door. With that voice, a huge sense of relief and thankfulness overcame him. "Oh man, thank god! I finally found someone!"

Silence once again.

"…hello?" Shadow raised an eyebrow.

"What?" the old man asked, sounding more irritated by his presence than excited.

"Can you open the door?" Shadow asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Go away."

Shadow couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why?"

"Is it really necessary for me to answer all your tedious questions?" the old man's voice asked.

Crossing his arms, Shadow frowned slightly. "Well…_yeah_."

"…just go. I want to be alone. Outsiders only irritate me."

"But sir…" Shadow's frown deepened. "I just want to see another living face…"

Silence.

"…are you okay?"

The stranger responded this time. "Why won't you leave?"

"I've been alone for so long…" Shadow's own voice never ceased to surprise him. It sounded more depressed than he imagined it could as he spoke. "There's no one here. Just monsters…I thought I was the only one left…"

"So what?"

"What do you mean _so what_? This place is insane! There's weird monsters everywhere, the whole town's abandoned, and it's so cold! And…and the fog!" Shadow bit his lip, trying to hold back what could be hours of random babbling if he didn't stop himself now.

"I don't care. It has nothing to do with me," the old man replied. "No one here means there's no one to disturb me."

"You really want to be alone in this insane asylum?" Shadow questioned, bewildered. Was this man nuts?

"Yes, exactly." The hedgehog didn't know what to say now, so the man continued speaking. "But how can you say that it is this town that's insane? Perhaps it is _we_ who are insane…both of us…_hopelessly_ insane…"

Shadow took a step backwards at that awkward statement. Things were getting weirder and weirder by the second.

"Are you satisfied now? Will you leave me alone?" The man's bloated irritation wasn't subsiding.

"Listen, this place isn't safe. If we work together I think we can get out of here. We'll be safer in numbers—"

"No."

Sighing, Shadow looked at the door to his left distantly. "I don't understand why not…"

"Just go away, whoever you are."

"My name is Shadow." The black hedgehog introduced himself. "…are you Tails?"

"No."

"What's your name?"

A pause.

Wondering if he was still there, Shadow knocked on the door again.

"Gerald."

"Boyd?"

"Robotnik." Gerald said with annoyance.

'_Gerald Robotnik…_' Shadow stated to himself. Interesting name.

"Please, just go away. I want to be alone."

Perhaps it was best just to give up for the time being. This man really didn't seem to want to be bothered. "Okay…Gerald, I'll be right back. Alright?"

He got no response. Sighing again, Shadow turned and walked over to the other door, a slight bit disappointed.

'_I wonder what's eatin' him…_' he contemplated. '_I hope he's okay…oh man, I'm so glad I'm at least not _completely_ alone here…_'

That was a good thing to know. This place was getting really weird. Well, _far_ past weird by this point. But knowing there was someone else not too far away made it seem a little easier to go on. Feeling rather reassured, though still disappointed, Shadow opened the other door and entered the new hallway.


	3. Voice

**Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow **

**Chapter 3: Voice**

-

'**_When the White Breath is found, this I shall dedicate_**

**_Oh Spirit of the Mist, grant us fortune eternal_**'

Ash-colored light filtered through the grainy windows onto the bridge, granting Shadow's eyes enough vision to read the words engraved in the wooden tablet. His new friend, the lighter, wasn't needed here where he stood, thanks to the windows lining the wall to his right. He was on the second floor bridge overlooking the foyer, the one he'd seen above when he first entered the mansion.

Whether or not it was needed in the rooms beyond was unknown to him – the door to the other side of the mansion was locked. So he was left with nowhere else to go but back to the corridor he'd just exited. Resting on the floor of the bridge was something of peculiar interest though: the board he now firmly held in his grip. Other than the writing, not really anything seemed unique about it except the four square-shaped holes that were cut into it. The black hedgehog felt a strange sense of possession towards the cottage cheese board. He couldn't quite place it, really, though maybe it did make some sort of sense. After all, it was the only thing he'd spotted on the second floor of interest so far. So he shoved it into his improvised jacket-belt and turned to face the brown door from which he came.

'_So much for that idea._' His search for a back door for the mansion was failing miserably so far. '_Time go to back to Gerald, I guess. I wonder if he knows what's up with this board…_'

Well, if Gerald was interested in speaking to him that is. And to be honest, he doubted he did. It'd only been, what, maybe three minutes since he left the mysterious man alone? The door he'd taken after his conversation with the old man led into another short dark corridor, which in turn continued on up to the bridge. There were still those three doors in the foyer he hadn't checked yet, not including the one Gerald was holding closed. If worse came to worse, he could just request the man open the door again.

With that weakened goal in mind, Shadow stepped back across the bridge and opened the door back into that river of darkness he'd just left behind. His fur stood on end when his eyes caught something glinting off the foggy light of the bridge; something standing erect like those straightjacket monsters. But it couldn't have been, for it's visible feminine, fake-looking thigh was wrapped in black pantyhose. That wasn't quite as unsettling as the fact that it had four legs, two of which seemed suspended in the air above it's sisters. And as if to make sure Shadow knew the sight was out of this world, the creature had no head or arms, just nothing but a torso with four legs attached like some sort of bipedal spider.

He took a step backwards, trying to comprehend what he was really seeing. It didn't appear to move or anything, it just stood there like a lifeless mannequin. Seconds ticked by, and he realized with relief that it really _was _a lifeless mannequin. Its unnatural body lacked any sort of organic material, just silicon and plastic—

Which clashed with the fact that it just twitched abruptly.

A grunt escaped Shadow's lips—which probably would have been a scream if the circumstances were only a teensy bit more extreme. Self-consciously, his hand grasped the hilt of the meat cleaver on his waist. Just in time too, because before he knew it the mannequin was charging at him with its arms ('_Legs._ _Those are its _legs') flailing around, and this time he _was_ screaming. Well, maybe only a shriek, but it had scared him far past enough.

With unsure quickness he yanked the cleaver out of its bed and swung it hard into the doll's right leg. No blood emitted, nor any feeling of flesh or bone breaking. The mannequin monster didn't seem to even feel it, but the force of the blow sent it stumbling to the left. It scraped against the doorway for a moment before regaining its balance and smashing its free leg into his face. For a moment he was desperately afraid he'd be knocked over the railing of the bridge, but he managed to use his free hand to grasp onto the side firmly and keep his balance. Meanwhile, his other hand pulled the cleaver out of its fake leg and jabbed it back in even harder. This time it sliced all the way through, cleanly severing the limb in a grotesquely clean and simple manner. The mannequin spazmed like it'd been electrocuted, and then jabbed its high heeled foot back into his face.

A sharp pain collided with his skin, and before he knew it he was on the floor with the insane creature on top of him. It was still silent as a mouse as it attempted to pull its top legs up and stomp down on his face repeatedly. Shadow desperately reached for the cleaver, which had fallen out of his grip somewhere along the way, and felt a renewed sense of relief when he found it beside him. With lightning speed, he jabbed it back into the mannequin's torso, pushing as hard as he could. The result was a force that knocked the monster off of him and to the side, sparing him enough time to jump to his feet and run like hell back to the door from which it came.

When he reached the door at the end of the darker corridor, he spun around to stare at the fallen statue on the floor as it tried to get up with the heavy knife still stuck in its side. Obviously, the cleaver wasn't the most effective weapon against it. Reaching for his side, he whipped out the magnum revolver and held it up to the mannequin's body, feeling nervousness overcome him once more. He pulled back the hammer, setting the new chamber up for its target. With both hands grasping the handle tightly, he squeezed the trigger. The gun sprung up into the air, attempting to escape his grip, in sync with the mannequin's body. A large new hole appeared in its chest, and after shaking a few more times it finally stopped moving.

…

Shadow placed his hand on his chest to feel his rapid heartbeat, as if to make sure the event hadn't literally scared him to death. When inanimate objects begin to attack you, that's usually a pretty damn good sign that the place isn't very safe. For a time, he just stood there staring at the curious figure, until he finally summoned enough courage to creep towards it to examine it closer. If it hadn't attacked him, it'd still be pretty damn freaky. It looked like the arms and head of the mannequin had been ripped off, and a second pair of legs had been sowed back on my some sick weirdo. Its rounded, perfect plastic breasts seemed to almost shine in the foggy light at the end of the corridor. What might have been an attractive doll sort of lost its edge when it looked as deformed as this one, not to mention the fact that a large blade was jabbed into its side.

Kneeling down, Shadow gripped the handle of the cleaver and ripped it out of its target, half expecting the monster to come back to life and assault him again. Luckily, it did no such thing, but it did seem to jump when he ripped the blade out. Returning it to his jacket-belt where the wooden board and the map lay, he stared back down at his other weapon. Three bullets had been used in the revolver so far, meaning only three more left. And the chances of there not being any other monsters in his way between now and whenever he leaves the town were pretty slim. Great, just great.

His heartbeat ended its journey back to normality. Storing the gun back in his side, he took his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it back on, illuminating the dark section of the hallway he was in. Gerald must have heard the gun go off, since he was only a room away. Maybe he could talk to him about this, and this time persuade the old man to accompany him. Surely he wouldn't want to stay if he knew this residence wasn't safe any longer…

Trying not to look at the lifeless creature on the floor any longer, Shadow turned and exited the hallway, reentering the stairway corridor he'd left a few minutes ago. Gerald's door was to his left and a few feet forward, so he stepped up to it and reached for the handle—

-**_THUD!_**

"Gack!" Shadow's body jolted like it was electrified for a split second, and he put his hand to his mouth to stop a startled shriek. A loud noise sounded off from afar, scaring the living crap out of him. His grip of the lighter's switch loosened a bit, engulfing him in darkness for a short time before he turned it back on.

What the hell was that? It sounded like it came from downstairs, perhaps in the living room…

With the lighter in one hand and the gun drawn in the other, he peeked down the stairway, seeing nothing but the wooden floor and steps below. If it was a monster, he'd better take it out now before he lost track of it and it could surprise him like the last one. Then he could talk to Gerald. Feeling a large sum of fear coursing through his veins, he descended the stairway, heading for the living room door on the first floor. About halfway down, another sound was heard: rapid thumping this time, like footsteps. He increased his pace down the stairs, hearing the sound of a door slam from afar, a mere two seconds before he grasped the living room door and opened it wide.

It looked the same as last time, just as dusty and old and dark. But from the light of the two candles on both sides of the mantle, he could see something _had_ changed since he left. The metal bars covering the fireplace were no longer there, instead laying on the floor now like they'd been pried off.

'_What's up with that thing?_' he wondered, lowering his weapon and stepping up to the fallen blockade. Why someone would want to pry it off and start a fire was beyond him. He didn't recall there being any wood in there anyway. Kneeling down, he looked into the fireplace to see he was correct, though there was something there he most certainly had not expect to see.

In the back wall of the elegant fireplace was a ladder, which seemed to lead down straight into the ground. Where the firewood would usually lie, there was a handle, like a trapdoor, which should open up and make the ladder accessible…

What a curious passage that was – something he'd only expect to see in the movies. He couldn't help but wonder where it leads to, and why. He reached out and grabbed the trapdoors handle to pull it up and over. Cautiously, he peeked down the hole to see the ladder went down about ten feet before it ended on solid gravel.

A basement? First off, having the basement entrance be via the fireplace was a little out of this world, but having a rock-like floor?

Ever curious, Shadow put the gun and the lighter away and sat down, sliding into the hole feet first and gripping the ladder. Had the fireplace been considerably smaller it would have been a rather tight fit, but luckily for him his body was rather compact. Step by step, he went down the ladder, until his feet met the ground below.

When he turned around, what he saw surprised him completely. It wasn't a basement after all, at least not the storage kind. It looked more like some sort of garden. Dirt flooring went a few feet forward until they came in contact with the white marble stairs, which went up about a half a foot and became flat ground again. A few plants surrounded the perimeter of the garden, seeming to defy their normal lifestyle by living in the dark. A dimly lit lamp hung in the back wall, shining down on an object in the back of the room.

It was a tombstone.

He raised an eyebrow, feeling almost drawn towards the grave. Something else caught his interest though – lying on both sides of the marble stoop, atop two parallel plant pots, were two boards of wood. They had a similar design to the white one he'd found on the second floor, except their holes were in different places. Also, they did not share the same color as the first one. One was black, while the other was a dark red.

Reaching out to both sides, Shadow picked up the boards and read the words carved into both of them.

The black one:

'**_When the Dark Grail is found, this I shall dedicate_**

**_You who deny Death, grant us fortune eternal_**'

And the red one:

'**_When the Crimson Words are found, this I shall dedicate_**

**_Oh gods deep in slumber, grant us fortune eternal_**'

"_Weird…_" Shadow whispered. There must be a connection between the three strange objects – no way there could be three similar ones so close together.

With the boards in hand, the black hedgehog looked back up to the small tombstone a few yards away. Something was written on that, barely visible with the weak light shining from the lamp in the corner. He stepped up to it and kneeled down, seeing what looked like some sort of cryptic poem carved rather than the grave's passenger name:

'**_Along with you died joy_**

**_All that remains is despair and a future of meaningless tomorrows_**

**_But I will never give up_**

**_One, to see your beautiful smile again_**

**_One, to beg the blessings of the gods_**

**_I wait for that day_**

**_When the boards have covered all_**

**_All sadness, too, will be_**

**_But until my dreams become reality_**

**_I will have to swallow all the pain_**'

Below that was something else peculiar. There was a square depression of a dark blue hue in the bottom of the grave, just above the withered flowers at its base. He kneeled there completely clueless for a short moment, and then figured out what it must mean. He pulled out the Swiss cheese white board and placed it atop the other two in his hands, smiling slightly as he saw that they went along with the poem. Each board, which looked just about the same size and shape of the depression in the tombstone, had a few holes in them. But they could be arranged so all the holes are covered. If the poem meant that the blueness in the stone was supposed to represent sorrow, these boards must be what covered it. So, after moving them around a bit, he covered every hole and placed the boards in the tombstone.

The second he did, a strange click was heard. He looked up to see a section of the tombstone on the top revolve by some mechanical force. On the opposite side of it, the side that was just inside the stone a moment ago, there was a golden key lodged into the stone. The word 'Acacia' was carved in silver letters on its base.

Shadow looked up and wondered what an Acacia is. If the key had an elaborate hidden place like this one, he guessed it must be really important. More than a little weirded out by what just happened, he rose back to his feet and put the key in his fur-pocket. Whoever the tombstone belonged to, he did not know, but he did know the key would come in handy for sure.

Turning around, the black hedgehog returned to the ladder and climbed back up to the first floor of the mansion.

-_Later…_-

Here he was again, standing atop the second floor bridge overlooking the foyer. The first door he'd thought of to examine with his new key was the locked one in the living room, followed by the three in the foyer. The living room door refused to accept the metallic key though, and neither did the doors the foyer had to offer (which, obviously, had been locked too). So he was left with one more option before his little quest would cease and he'd have to request the old man's help again: The door on the bridge.

He was a bit nervous at the idea of returning to where that mannequin's body lay, but when he reached the corridor leading into the bridge, the insane doll's corpse wasn't there any longer. And _that _scared him even more. Maybe it hadn't died for good after all…he didn't know. His caution level was upped another notch though, that's for sure.

His little luck hadn't run out just yet, thankfully. The key slid into the door's slot simply, and with a turn the key's purpose was surveyed. Leaving it there in the lock, Shadow grasped the doors handle and opened it to reveal—a bit annoyingly—another long hallway.

Windows lined the right wall, just like in the foyer, so it was bright enough for him to see easily. It stretched about eighty feet forward, and then curved to the left to a place he couldn't see. Nervously, he stepped down the hallway, contemplating what was really going on here. He wanted to check up on Gerald badly, since he'd already skipped two chances to, but he wanted to at least check out what this wing of the mansion had to offer first. If he found something useful, then returned to the old man, things would go along easier. At least, he hoped so…

He half expected that mannequin to pop out and attack him at every step he took, and that feeling of doom increased when he got to where the hall turned. Sliding with his back to the wall, he peeked stealthily around the corner.

No monster, just three doors in a considerably shorter hall. Two were on the right wall, and the third was directly ahead. Still cautiously, Shadow reached for the nearest door on the right wall and tried the handle. Locked. Damn it. The word 'PIANO' was etched into the doors surface, signifying it must be a piano room or something. Probably nothing useful in there, though the thought of seeing a working piano did comfort him somehow.

'_I can play that, right?_' he wondered. Like much of his basic knowledge of the world, he wasn't exactly sure. Seemed like a skill he just might know after all. '_You're getting off track anyway, time to get back to business, Shadow._'

Step step step. The second door was in his reach. He tried this handle to see it, thankfully, wasn't locked after all. What he saw on the other side was rather bizarre, but not abnormally bizarre.

A somewhat decent-sized bedroom. In the back of the room, atop the small bed littered with old-looking stuffed animals, was a small window. A closet with mirror-doors was on the left wall, closed all the way and showing him his own strange reflection. How weird, just looking at himself in the mirror a second time made him feel like some sort of space alien. His black fur was a little ruffled up from all the running around, but he looked like he was still in pretty good shape at the moment. Hopefully it'll stay that way. He took his eyes away from his reflection and gazed around the rest of the room. Everything looked extremely old, like everything else in the house. The fact that it was clearly a child's bedroom, which held extremely drained and voided objects that were once bright vivid colors, sort of creeped him out. Interesting, but nothing that looked like it'd be needed.

'_I guess a kid once lived here,_' he noted. Like with the dead interior of the once lively room, that idea creeped him out. '_Did Gerald live here before, or was it someone else?_'

Good question. To his dismay, none of these questions appeared to have an answer over the horizon. It made him wonder if he'd ever know before taking his leave. Standing there at the doorway wasn't getting anything done, so he backed away and aborted the room from the rest of the mansion wing.

Nothing quite useful had been offered by the corridor as of yet. Shadow scratched the side of his head and hoped the last door wasn't sealed off too.

A short-lived smile was born on his chapped lips when the door did indeed open. What was on the other side was a bit of a shocker, but nothing too big. No room was in sight, only a very old looking staircase that climbed up an extra floor.

'_This must go to the attic._'

The stairs' wooden boards cried with pain with every step he took, making a noise that felt loud enough to wake the whole goddamn neighborhood if it wasn't dead too. No one could hear him most likely, but the noise still scared him a bit, more than a creeky stairs probably should.

'_Of course it's scaring you, considering where you are,_' Shadow felt an abrupt impulse to laugh at that. It hadn't really dawned on him that he was exploring a dark scary mansion in a dark scary town. '_Heh, brilliant, Shadow. Now if a murder decided to assault you, don't forget to run upstairs instead of out the front door._'

Ironically, that little joke is what ended his urge to laugh. A jolt of uncomfortableness overcame him. '_Okay, just shut up. Right now._'

With that he cleared his mind of dialogue for the time being, just in time to reach the top of the staircase.

Without much surprise, the attic was extremely old and creepy looking. Had his lighter not been flicked on and clutched in his right hand at the moment, he wouldn't have been able to see a thing. The attic didn't span the whole range of the house, but instead just the south wing. Boxes of various items and junk stacked atop one another covered most of the walls. The floor, on the other hand, was wiped clean of stuff for the most part, besides a very thick layer of dust that jumped into the air around him with every step he made. In the back of the attic, the side parallel to the entrance, was a very large boarded up window. Thin slithers of gray light shined through the cracks, but barely enough to supply the room with a decent amount of light. Also noticeable was a barely illuminated table a few yards away from where he stood, holding on it some sort of paper object and what might be a candle—

-_CRASH!_

"_AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!_"

Shadow almost screamed himself when a loud, female shriek of terror mixed in with the cry of breaking glass assaulted the tranquility of the attic.

-**_THUD!_**

Something hit the ground hard far away, and the scream that had attacked his ears ended. What followed were a whole series of screams, from _many _different voices in the distance. His eyes darted around the room, and for a split second he could have sworn he saw a transparent shadow standing at the boarded up window. A second later it was gone, and he couldn't even tell if he really saw it or not. Meanwhile, the voices' horrified shrieks turned into words, many jumbled and mixed ones.

"—_Oh my god!—_"

"—_What happened?—_"

And then it stopped, before he even knew it. Silence overcame the room once more.

…

"What the _fuck _was that?" he whispered. His voice felt deafeningly loud in the empty place.

No answers, none at all.

His free hand rubbed his forehead; way past startled and overcome by what he'd just experienced. '_I'm going crazy already. Oh my god I'm going crazy already._'

"No you're not." He spoke out loud. It didn't sound quite as loud as the whisper did, strangely enough.

But if he wasn't, why the hell was he hearing things a second ago?

For about a minute he stood here in silence, waiting for the thudding in his heart to end. Whatever had just happened wasn't happening anymore, at least. For a split second he considered leaving the attic right away, but then he remembered the thing he'd seen on the table before he was distracted by the strange…whatever the hell it was. His body felt cold, but it was regaining its status quo as he creeped towards the small wooden table not too far away. When his bubble of firelight swallowed up the darkness around the object, he saw that he was correct: There _was _a candle atop the wooden desk, but beside that something of even more interest. He set the candle aflame with his lighter and shut it off, placing it on the desk and looking down at what had caught his attention.

It was a card.

His gloved fingertips wiped across the surface, tearing away a dusty layer of the card's dark tint to reveal a very vivid but somehow faded birthday card of some sort. It was a pretty basic one: a blue background with a medium sized cake with candles stabbed into it, along with multicolored balloons frozen in above the cake.

Curiosity guided his fingers to the edge of the card, then gave them that nice extra push of energy to move his fingers, opening it. Somewhat neat handwriting with a childlike essence to it was scribbled across its white interior. His eyes widened when his mind took in what it read.

'**_HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!_**

**_Love, Maria Robotnik_**'

And that's when the weakened voice of a little girl muttered from disturbingly closeby. "_Give this…to my daddy…_"

His fur stood on end and his heartbeat jumped back into the drowning pool. He whirred around, obliterating the flame of his lighter with the rush of wind momentarily until it flicked back on.

"Who's there?"

But no one was there. No little girl speaking into his ear despairingly, no mannequin monster ready to shred him to pieces, no nothing. Only himself and the boxes and the dust and the boarded up window with gray cracks across its a surface. He was just hearing things.

"Hello?"

…

'_Maybe I really _am _losing my mind…_' he stared back down at the card. '_Unless…_'

Enough stalling. Right now, more than ever, he needed to speak to Gerald. With the card in hand, Shadow left the attic, backtracking to the east wing.


	4. Sorrow

**Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow **

**Chapter 4: Sorrow**

-

"Gerald, are you there?"

Shadow knocked on the door for the fourth time. Knock. Knock. Knock. Still, no one replied. "No…I guess not."

Doubtful was his faith of Gerald's presence. He hadn't been very responsive the first time around, so maybe the old guy could be just ignoring him this time. Or maybe he left awhile ago. Or maybe he was dead.

(—_his body laying mangled on the floor with his eyes stabbed out by the mannequin monsters high heels and soon to become bloody ant-filled craters—_)

_—SLAP!_

The nerves in the side of his face cried with agony in response to the smack it received from his hand. That was an insane mental image, one he most certainly did not want to have trapped within the barren confines of his memories. If a monster broke in and killed the mysterious man, wouldn't he hear the screams? Wouldn't the door be ajar?

'_Which means he must have left, if he's not ignoring me_,' Shadow concluded. '_Now shut the hell up and open the door. You're not going to find out what happened if you just stand here._'

With a nod, Shadow grasped the door's knob and turned it. The feeling of the door pulling back closed as he tried to open it never came – it opened wide to reveal a dark, lifeless room.

He refastened his jacket around his waist and flicked his lighter back on, illuminating a forest of shadows. It seemed to be a lounge. Two couches lay parallel to each other in the center of the room, a bridge of a coffee table in-between them. A few random books were strewn across it, along with a black-encrusted ashtray reeking with age. There was a second fireplace to the left of it, surrounded by many paintings and collectable plates of trivial scenery. Even more copious bookcases lined the back walls, in between the oversized windows. Had the black curtains not been drawn, some decent light would be shrouding the scene. A few plants littered the place too – it looked pretty tidy and elegant all around. But no Gerald was in sight.

'_I guess he did leave after all_,' Shadow almost felt relieved. '_But where did he go?_'

There weren't exactly many unlocked doors in this creepy place, but it wasn't that unlikely Gerald had a key. It was pretty safe to assume by this point that he lived here – Boyd might be the former owner of the mansion or something like that. And that grave in the secret garden most likely belonged to…to…

'_You don't _know _that,_' Shadow interjected his thoughts. The number of times he's argued with himself thus far was a trifle humorous. '_And I think it's best to quit considering the idea until you at least catch up to him._'

He rescanned the room and noticed two things he hadn't before. One: There actually was another door, in the center of the right wall, and Two: On the coffee table, beside a melted candle stub and an old looking coffee mug, lie an oversized open book. It looked like an encyclopedia of some sort, judging from the immense mass of it. Shadow stepped up to the book and sat down on the couch, lighting the candle with his lighter and reading the page that was left naked to the room's interior.

It, in fact, _was_ an encyclopedia; a plant encyclopedia to be exact. One part was circled in black marker; below a medium-sized photo of a rather interesting looking tree, some tiny typed up text was printed.

'**ACACIA:**

**A genus of evergreen trees of the mimosa tribe of the pea family. Its tiny flowers are yellow or white and grow in clusters. Common varieties include the "gum tree".**

**The Acacia Tree is a potent symbol in many religions across the world: In Christianity it represents eternal life and morality. In ancient Egypt it represented purity and rebirth; while in ancient Babylonia it was thought of as the tree of the Goddess Ishtar and was a symbol of Life.**

**It was also a holy tree to the Ancient Jews who built the sacred Ark of the Covenant from it, and for whom it signified a peaceful death and a release from grief**.'

Acacia…that name sounded familiar. Highways of thought bustled in his brain for a moment and halted when he remembered that was the word engraved on the key he'd found in the tombstone.

'_Interesting…_' he mused. '_But probably not relevant._'

Many more frivolous books lined the walls of the room, but none of them seemed interesting enough to read right here and now. That left only the other door to check out. It was safe to assume the faceless old man had gone through there. Even if he hadn't, it wasn't like there was anywhere else to go.

That notion blighted him. More or less, he really was just wandering aimlessly around town. What would happen if he escaped? He really had no idea whatsoever.

With a discontent sigh, Shadow the hedgehog flicked his lighter back on and pulled the door open. Another hallway awaited him, not very surprisingly. It seemed like there were more hallways than actual rooms in this weird place.

Cautiously he stuck his head through the doorway to examine the hall's interior. The subtleness that surrounded the mannequin monster to his immediate right almost tricked him into thinking it was safe. Almost. He jumped backwards, just nearly missing a swing from the monsters synthetic leg. The narrow miss seemed to trigger an electric grenade to go off within it, for the mannequin spazmed vibrantly and stumbled into the doorway he stood in, throwing a hard kick into the side of his face. The attack knocked his head into the side of the doorway and he cried out in pain. In one abrupt movement, Shadow bolted into the creature, knocking it backwards a little, and then slammed the door closed. A loud thud emitted from behind the door.

Shadow reopened it and didn't even look down. He hopped over the fallen monster and sprinted across the hall. It twisted to the left, but he didn't acknowledge that at all. What stole his interest was the staircase directly ahead, which steeply moved down into a new section of the ground level. Unaware of the fact that the mannequin wasn't even following him anymore, he jumped down the stairs two steps at a time, almost tripping over himself in the process. He finally did when he reached the final step, but not because of the tricky wooden flooring – because of what stood at the bottom of the staircase. He rammed right into the straightjacket monster and fell over with it, his heart spazming in reaction to the feeling of the monster's slick flesh.

Rolling over, he jumped to his feet and yanked the handgun out of his side, which somehow hadn't fallen off when he'd tripped. The monster screamed in the position it lay in, and before he knew it wasn't there anymore. With frightening agility, it crawled across the floor towards his boots. With a strangled cry, Shadow squeezed the trigger and fired an oversized deathbomb into the creature's back. It seemed to almost explode in gore, like a landmine had been planted in its flesh. Somehow that didn't managed to kill it though, to his dismay. The straightjacket monster stopped crawling and wiggled in sync with a series of abrupt moans, seeming to be crippled from the destruction of its spine. The black hedgehog spared it from the inevitable slow death it would have suffered, and kicked it hard in the face. A sickening crack of its neck, and it was dead.

Panting heavily, Shadow tore his eyes away from the corpse, only to see another straightjacket monster standing about ten feet away, wiggling a bit as it stumbled towards him, followed closely by a mannequin monster right behind it.

'_Fuck that!_' he cried. He noticed door to his right, which he opened at lighting speed and ran through. With a loud slam, it was closed, and he was safe.

'_Looks like the new guests have arrived._' He wished he could come up with a better one-liner than that, but he doubted it meant shit in a real situation like this anyway.

The corridor he stood in now was thankfully empty, and also quite bright. Windows lined the left wall, pouring in a sea of gray light. From where he stood, he could see the other door at the end of the ridiculously long hall. It seemed to stretch across the whole rear of the mansion.

'_Better than having more twisting dark corridors,_' Still, Shadow wished hopelessly that his quest through the mansion would be a little less complicated. The idea of a backdoor was currently pushed behind a mental wall of other problems and questions. More than ever, he was bent on catching up to Gerald. '_I wonder if that guy has a weapon or something with him. It's certainly dangerous enough here with one, let alone without one._'

It suddenly occurred to him that he should have grabbed the poker from the fireplace while he was in the living room. It would have made a much less tricky melee weapon than the meat cleaver.

Too late now. Shadow refastened his jacket for the second time (quite intrigued that it hadn't fallen off in his mad rush) and jolted those little imaginary electric wires that control the movement of one's body. The floorboards creaked and cried as uncomfortably as they had in the other parts of the house, though the creepy effect it submitted to his ears was weakened by the absence of darkness. Outside there was only fog in sight, but if he recalled there was an apartment building across the mansion's back alley. Being able to see it from here would have added to his ease, but at least he had someth—

(—_man, what a great afternoon, eh tails?_)

Shadow stopped abruptly and leaned forward when a harsh unexpected cough invaded his throat. No spittle erupted, just an incredibly dry feeling of air compressing unnaturally within him. Within the same amount of time it took that sickening feeling to be born, it died away resiliently.

"What was that?" he croaked, regaining his composure. It was like a brief, incoherent memory stabbed him in the brain and disappeared.

Silence was the world's only answer. In response, that everlasting question he'd had since he'd awoken bloated up even more, like an unwanted and ugly tumor.

'_Who the hell is Tails?_' It felt like the answer was looming just out of reach, teasing and bemusing him endlessly. "This is getting too weird for me." Shadow bit his lip and rubbed his hand through his spikes, feeling slightly surprised at the abnormalness of them. They disobeyed gravity's godly plans and continued to bend upwards oddly. They felt awkward. _He_ felt awkward.

With his mind clouded with confusion, he navigated the long hallway till he reached the door at the very end. Looked like it really did go to the exact opposite end of the mansion after all, he found. The room living behind the mask of the door was some sort of service room, which had two boarded up windows on the wall parallel to him. That told him two things: he was in the far corner of the mansion now, and there was no back door in sight. Looks like that plan wasn't foolproof after all.

There was an old telephone on one of the desks, which he quickly examined. It was dead as the rest of the world, as he had come to expect it to be. Nothing wrong with trying anyway. There were a few more papers scattered around, and what looked like car keys hung on a coat hook in the corner, but nothing that looked useful. Though if he could manage to find the garage and a car inside of it, maybe those keys would be useful…he could use it to ram one of the barricades down outside, perhaps. But that was just wishful thinking, he knew. All his ideas felt hopeless.

A door stood on the other wall, leading back into the deeper regions of the residence. No other way to go but there. Shadow collapsed the threshold, gun drawn and ready to enter battle.

But no battle ever came. It was empty. Relieved, he holstered the gun back at his side.

'_You only have two bullets left,_' He warned himself. '_You should have gotten the poker while you had the chance._'

"Too late now." A million deaf ears heard his chagrin notion.

There were quite a few doors in this hallway: One to his immediate left marked 'TUNNEL', one directly ahead, and a few more in the section where the hall curved to the right. Maybe one of them led back into the living room – he could only hope so. Since the tunnel door caught the most interest, he tried it, feeling disappointed to find that it was locked tight. That left only the ones ahead. Ever cautious, he went through the nearest door.

Books, books, books. If Gerald did own this place after all, he sure as hell must have loved books. The study looked more like a personal library; shelves filled to the brim with hardcovers and paperbacks. Stacks of more books and magazines lay in a rather unprofessional box in the corner. To his left was an old-looking lamp, which guarded the desk behind it. On the desk was something that didn't take long to catch his undivided attention.

It looked like a transcribed letter of some sort, written by a professional. That would explain the picture of an island (_'that island in the middle of the lake Toluca, i think_…) illustrated at the top of it with an absurd amount of detail. Underneath it, some words were inscribed in neat handwriting.

'**I have the strongest trust - you may even call it faith - in the miracle called the "Resurrection of the Dead". **

**Upon the hill where the light descended, the Beast intoned his song. With words of blood, drops of mist and the vessel of night, the grave became an open field. The people wept in fear and joy at the reunion, but my faith in the salvation of Ztar did not waver.**

**It is also spoken of in the ancient legends. The original worshippers did not believe that death was the end but that it was simply the path by which the deceased returned to nature. They also believed the process was reversible.**'

There was also something written at the bottom of the page, in much more sloppy and human-like handwriting.

'**_Blood: Red_**

**_Mist: White_**

**_Night: Black_**

**_Chaos: God?_**'

'_Did Gerald write this part?_' he questioned. Everything in his imaginary puzzle was beginning to come together, and the idea of that truly didn't comfort him in the least. Ironic. Anyway, there was only one way to find out for sure…

In the left corner of the study sat a miniature wooden bookcase, which reached to about his belly in height. Beside that bookcase, more notably, was a single door. He reached for the handle, beginning to turn when it stopped suddenly. But it stopped in a much more…organic sort of way than it would have if it were locked. That meant only one thing.

"Gerald," Shadow spoke out loud, knowing very well that the man was on the other side of the door.

"What is it this time?" Gerald questioned with a hint of annoyance. "Why can't you just leave me be?"

"Do you know a girl named Maria?"

There was a long silence, and for a moment Shadow thought he was being ignored again. He opened his mouth to repeat himself, but that's when the old man responded.

"Why do you ask me that?"

"I, uh, I went to the attic," The hedgehog stated quickly, fumbling over his words as he pulled the card out of his jacket. "There was a birthday card on the table there. 'Happy birthday daddy', it says. It's from someone by the name of Maria Robotnik."

…

"Hello?"

"That explains it…" Gerald began. Thick, cold vines of sadness were entangled in his ashen voice. "Why she was up there in the attic; why she had an envelope in her hand before she…she…"

A regretful frown formed on Shadow's pale lips. "Gerald…"

"I wasn't there to stop her fall," He uttered, a tremendous sorrow overwhelming him. "No one was. We were all in the courtyard, laughing and chatting…ignorant of what was to come. If only I'd known while I had the chance…if only I had reinstalled that old window beforehand, or locked the attic door…"

Another pause, in which neither of them knew what to say.

"I'm sorry for reminding you..." Shadow whispered sincerely.

"No, no. You didn't remind me," Gerald stated forgivingly. "I've never forgotten…" A sigh, and he continued: "Shadow, there are some things you can forget…and some things you can _never _forget. I'm really not sure which is worse."

The black hedgehog looked down to the floor, carrying an ounce of the man's grief on his shoulders. That ounce was difficult for even him to bear. "I think I can understand."

"It's been twelve long years, and yet I still…" he trailed off contritely. "Oh Maria…"

After a few moments, realization hit Shadow that the old man behind the door was weeping. "I…I don't know what to say."

"Have you ever lost someone, Shadow?"

"No," he didn't feel quite sure of that answer. Was losing someone comparable to never having someone at all? If it wasn't, it sure did feel like it was. "Not really."

"Heh…that's good. It's not something you should feel; not something _anyone_ should be forced to feel…It's like a void of emptiness swallows you whole, and you can't escape it no matter how hard you try, day after day…as if the very air you breath is forever poisoned with feelings of loss, and despair."

Saying Shadow hadn't felt so helpless or speechless in his entire life wouldn't be saying much, since all he could remember was the events of the past few hours. But he truly did feel that way. "I…"

"Shadow, that birthday card…"

"Here." Shadow kneeled down to the ground and slid the birthday card under the door into Gerald's room.

"Thank you," A nearly joyful chuckle could be heard from behind the door. "Heh, Maria Robotnik…she used to always spell out her last name in birthday cards and letters to me, as if I didn't know who it was…"

Shadow smiled halfheartedly. Fond memories were the best one could hold onto in situations like this, he knew. It was too bad no one could ever relive those memories though…

It somehow felt like that had ended the conversation. A minute of no sound ticked by, and he figured it must have. Unknowing of what to do, Shadow began to turn around. The solemn man seemed to hear what he was doing and stopped him.

"Shadow…"

"Yeah?"

"So you must be…" he overlapped his own sentence with another. "_That's_ why; that's why you can hear me…"

"Huh?"

"So perhaps that means I can hope for a miracle as well…?"

"What do you mean?"

"Next door, in the apartment building, there's a bottle of this white liquid," He reluctantly beseeched. "I don't know exactly where it is, but I know it's in there somewhere…that's all that I still need."

Shadow got the picture. "You want me to get it for you?"

"Please."

"Why can't you get it yourself?"

"Heh, believe me, if I could, I would. But it's been so long…"

"I understand," Shadow affirmed, though he didn't really. "But how do I get there?"

"Through the tunnel. It's locked, but there's a key in my desk behind you."

"Do you really think that it will work?"

"I don't know…"

A small smile cracked at the side of his face. "That's okay. I guess I don't mind fighting for a seemingly hopeless cause anyway. Beats just giving up and doing nothing."

"This _is_ Sonic Hill, Shadow. Don't ever forget that."

Turning around, Shadow suggested: "Yeah, but I think that may be the problem."

The mysterious man behind the door either didn't hear him or just chose not to acknowledge what he'd said. That was fine. Claiming the key from the desk, Shadow exited the study. It wasn't much, but he had a firm goal in mind now. And with that, he could live at least a little longer.


	5. Destiny

**Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow **

**Chapter 5: Destiny**

**-**

'**_BEWARE OF HAUNTED MANSION_**' had been spray painted in thick, bolt red letters on the back wall of the residence, alongside a scrupulously crude drawing of a ghost. That depiction brought a nervous smirk to Shadow the hedgehog's white-skinned face. It was unlikely the asshole who had written that was aware of the fact that it was populated by monsters.

Whoever that was was most likely dead now. That thought didn't ease him in the least. The thing that did was the cold, icy air that surrounded him. Quite a bit chilly, it was, but certainly better than the stodgy confines of that old mansion.

Gerald's cryptic instructions had thus far proven simple to follow. After their conversation, he had unlocked the tunnel door and followed it outside. It was built awkwardly—serving as an underground passageway through the mansion—but the stairs at the other end of it lead back up to the ground floor correctly, not ten feet from the rear end of the place. The alleyway he stood in was the one he'd been spying on the map earlier—the one that lead north past the Creekside apartments and into Doggy Avenue, which could be used to escape the town. But currently, his interest in leaving was dabbled out. A great fervency coursed through his veins like purified water; he was on a mission. It was safe to assume the Creekside apartments were the ones his earnest friend spoke of; and if not that, it'd have to be its larger neighbor, the Woodside apartments. The backdoor of the former lie in sight from where he stood. It sat above a short stoop only about ten feet away, moderately concealed by the gloomy fog.

His heavy boots clopped against the rough pavement of the back alley, guiding him past a series of garbage cans and graffiti-ridden walls to the stoop. Zeal shining meekly within him, he entered the building.

Darkness loved Sonic Hill, apparently. While the darkness's depth was equivalent to the darkness in the mansion, with his lighter flicked on Shadow could observe that the apartments were certainly newer. Gray cement walls surrounded the metallic stairway, granting him no door or passageway to explore on this floor. So he climbed his way up the short stairs to find that it was identical to the first floor basically. Only, there _was_ a door this time, a white one directly ahead. And thankfully, the main passageway of the apartments was unlocked.

He could hear them long before he saw them.

Straightjacket men—or demons, he still wasn't sure what to call them—loomed within the corridor like anxious patrollers on guard duty. The slick clops of their bare, skinless feet against the floorboards echoed throughout the darkness, driving Shadow into a state of intense fear. He could do nothing but hear the myriad tromp across the corridor, seeking him out with their eyeless sockets, until they entered the unnervingly small bubble of brightness his lighter breathed. When that happened, he could either fight or run like hell. And since he wasn't the most bellicose, heroic hedgehog in the world, it would most likely be the latter.

But first, the door. Being an apartment building, the long corridor was riddled with many claustrophobic rooms and doors. And since it was a public place, it was safe to assume they'd be less comparable to a labyrinth and more straightforward for the most part. With his range of vision fixated on the sea of darkness ahead, his fingers simultaneously gripped for the handle. When he turned it, he was crestfallen to find that it wasn't working correctly. The lock was broken, and the door wouldn't open.

Who knew where the next door would be – chances were the monsters guarded them unknowingly. One of them sounded closer than ever, forcing him to grip the handle of his cleaver. Their assiduous tromping echoed on and on, growing louder by the second.

"_ooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!_" cried the nearest straightjacket demon as it emerged from the wall of blackness. Its cry reverberated in unison with Shadow's. That is, until he slammed the blade down upon it's fleshless neck.

The sound was disgusting, and so was the shower of blood that erupted like a volcano from it's wound. With a weaker, less offensive moan, the monster stumbled over and fell flat on its face. Its cries ended quickly when the hedgehog kicked it in the head with all his might, breaking its neck and ending its feral life. Shadow barely got any time to breath, for another straightjacket demon entered his light-bubble to combat. Shadow didn't bother to fight it, knowing already he couldn't fight all of them at once. Just as the demon lurched backwards to spit its acidic vomit unto him, he broke into a sprint and fleeted across the long corridor.

Doors passed by, each of which he tried lightening fast as he ran ahead. Locked, locked, locked; this wasn't looking good. A wave of relief hit him when he found one—a white one like the door he used to enter—open easily within his grip. What lie behind the door was not an apartment room, but in fact a second stairway.

'_Might as well check the first floor then, I guess. Hopefully I won't have to come back up here empty handed._' He already felt avid to leave this place as soon as possible. The fact that no living thing was here except for those monsters was more than a little scary; at least in the mansion he knew Gerald was somewhere in there with him.

A soft thunk rung out with every step he took; his various items packed tightly around his waist appeared determined to ruin his stealthy jaunt. Not only that, but the feeling of them rubbing against his body was beginning to irritate his flesh. Had he no fur, that vexing would have been far greater.

He reached the bottom level, retightened his jacket around his hips, and pushed the door ahead.

In layout, the bottom hallway was identical to the former one. But, to his relief, it was void of enemies for the time being. That was always good.

He turned to the right and began searching the place for any passable doors, coming up with absolutely nothing at all, so he returned and searched the left side of the hall. To his pleasant surprise, the door to room 105 was slightly ajar, allowing him to enter freely.

Shadows were born. They crept up and down the walls as the hedgehog of the same name stepped in, suffusing the place with his noticeably weakening lighter. Its unreliable flame was deteriorating by the minute, vanishing bit by bit in response to the scant amount of lighter fluid left within its glassy chamber. Shadow knew he'd have to find that ritual artifact that Gerald aspired fast if he planned to get out alive. From what he could see, the room had seen better days. The couch in the far corner, lying underneath the boarded up window behind it, was mutilated. Strips of its white insides were strewn across its body, along with a few broken springs. The bookcase on the wall beside it looked just as old as the ones in the Boyd Mansion, though obviously someone much less tidy owned it. Or perhaps it was just the town's deterioration that did that - he didn't know. What he did notice though was something on the left wall, right beside the tilted bathroom doorway.

It was a cupboard of some sort, though it looked much different than any he'd ever seen before. It only had one storage hatch, but that was locked shut. Across its surface were five small, circular holes. Below that, there was some writing of interest:

'**_Three bright coins in five holes be_**

**_At one end sits the seducer of she_**

**_The wind from behind, the woman doth play_**

**_The formless one, null, lies furthest from they_**

**_The old one beside the serpent sits not_**

**_'Tis to the prisoner's left that he doth rot_**'

'_Interesting…_' Shadow speculated. If it was another puzzle like the one in the underground graveyard, he was out of luck. He didn't have any coins, and even if he did he didn't understand how they'd work into the puzzle. '_Well, I guess I'd have to put them in some sort of order to unlock it._'

The idea of searching every nook and cranny of these dangerous old apartments discomforted him. But he was in luck, because he wouldn't need to solve the stupid puzzle anyway. On top of the cupboard, resting there like it was waiting for him all along, was a single small, white bottle. Liquid of a pure white hue sat entrapped inside of it.

Like a mental ghost, Gerald's discourse voice raced through his brain:

('_Next door, in the apartment building, there's a bottle of this white liquid. I don't know exactly where it is, but I know it's in there somewhere…that's all that I still need_.')

"Bingo." Shadow flashed his divinely white teeth in excitement. Success was good, as always.

Wrapping his gloved fingers around the five-inch-high bottle, he picked it up and placed it carefully in his right fur pocket. That's when he noticed something else.

Where the bottle was standing, a thin magazine was visible. Not able to help himself, he picked it up and opened it wide, scanning the pages within for an idea of what could have happened to the town, or what had happened in the past.

Most of the pages appeared to be cut out, unfortunately. What remained were insignificant articles about new speed-bumps being installed, Midwitch Elementary getting its library a shipment of new books thanks to a local children's fundraising, the construction of a new tunnel in South Vale…nothing important. That is, until he reached the third page, where the myth section was. The article on the top read:

'**_The Myth of the Chaos Emerald_**'

Below it:

'**_Not much is known about this mysterious jewel, but its gray aura cannot be ignored. It has long been a loved and praised artifact of the local museum, but some believe that there may be more to it than its attractive appearance._**

**_Knuckles Echidna, head of the Sonic Hill Historical Society, states that it may be the only non-green emerald in the world. He also speculates that there's a possibility of there being more of them, possibly making seven in total. When questioned why, he stated:_**

**_"This town has a lot of history, and a lot of folklore in the past. It's said that a long time ago the original people who lived here used to worship seven multicolored emeralds, believing them to be the key to their god's 'ultimate power'. This 'ultimate power' could be manipulated for both good and evil, but whoever uses them could easily lose control and cause horrible, chaotic things to happen; hence the name," He then added: "When those people died out, the belief sort of did too, I guess. Most thought that the whole idea was hokey pokey, but since we've found this intriguing emerald, we're beginning to believe that maybe the Chaos Emeralds did exist as actual artifacts after all."_**

**_While many critics are skeptical of this, there have been reports of strange glowing auras seen at night in different areas of town._**

**_The Sonic Hill Historical Society is currently offering a 5000 reward for anyone who finds and turns in these said emeralds._**'

There was no date, but judging from the condition of the apartment room it was at least a few years old. Chaos Emeralds…that name rang a bell somehow. But he couldn't quite place what it was…

'_The Sonic Hill Historical Society…I think I've been there before t—_'

_-BAM!_

A panicked scream spread Shadow's lips open, which transformed into a grunt of pain when the floorboards collided with him. The lighter flicked off as he fell, shrouding him and his assailant in utter darkness. As fast as possible, he rolled to his side, hearing the thud of a single highheel land where the back of his head just was. He drew his magnum and aimed blindly towards the mannequin monster. It kicked him in the hand ere he was able to shoot, forcing it loose of his grip and flying through the air. It resounded from afar, deepening his terrified despair. Less than a second later, he felt the hard blow of its shoe colliding with his ribs, sending jolts of agony rushing through him. He covered his head instinctively with a cry, just in time to save himself from another dive into an ocean of hurt.

A barrage of kicks followed, all missing his head thanks to his instinctive movements. With his free hand he grabbed for the cleaver and yanked it out, shoving it with all his might into the leg of the monster. Its limb came loose above his grip and fell, followed quickly by the rest of the creature's form. Shadow screamed again while struggling to get the spazming doll off of him. Pushing hard, he shoved it to his side, then climbed back to his feet. He turned and tried to run, but only ended up tripping over one of the monster's legs and landing flat on his face. Still far from dead, the creature behind him began slamming its awkwardly bent leg down upon him homicidally. Of all the ways he could die, Shadow was certain getting pummeled to death wasn't the most pleasant of them. Flexing his weak muscles, he tried to reach forward for something, anything, to fend the creature off with.

With a snap, all three of the mannequin's remaining legs cracked backwards, allowing it to crawl over the terrified hedgehog like a deadly spider, unaffected by his sharp bent up spikes. Shadow pushed himself forward, scratching the dirty boards across his chest in complete panic. Surely it couldn't end like this, so simply and pathetically. Stretching his arm as far as he could, he almost shouted with relief when he felt the handle of his trusty revolver in reach. Pulling it into his grip, he rolled onto his back and shoved the gun's nozzle into the mannequin's chest. The revolver screamed, its feral roar reverberating throughout the whole apartment building, and the mannequin fell limp, dead.

Gasps of respiration escaped Shadow's lips. A sigh of relief followed.

"_Jesus…_"

Pushing the corpse off of him, he blindly searched the floor for his lighter. It was surprisingly easy to find. Flicking it on, he illuminated the room once more in its warm glow.

"…oh shit," Cold terror filled his veins not for the first time. Shadow shoved his hand into his pocket, expecting to feel the sharp edges of the broken vial mixed in with the slick white liquid sting his fingers. But surprisingly it remained intact, not in the least bit harmed despite the chaos that ensued around it. "Aah…thank goodness."

Shadow climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. He'd survived that battle, and he wasn't about to stick around to engage in another one. It was time to go back to the mansion. He couldn't wait to leave. With his new treasure in hand, Shadow exited the apartment.

_-__Later…_-

The study door closed behind him discreetly, projecting a noise barely audible to even Shadow's triangular hedgehog ears. His jog out of the apartments, across the alleyway, and into the mansion had ended a short period of time ago. Finally he was back.

His boots eased across the elegant carpet blanketing the floor. He made his way across the short distance between the entrance door and the door to Gerald's room, then raised his hand to knock. His fist didn't even touch the surface when the man spoke up.

"You made it back."

Startled, Shadow regained his composure and nodded. He knew the man couldn't see him do so, but it felt as if his eyes simply penetrated the wooden barrier. "Yeah."

"That's the only item I couldn't get myself…" Gerald began remorsefully, with a hint of honest relief. "I'd known about it, but by the time I'd been aware of where it was, I couldn't leave this house anymore…"

Shadow stared down at the White Chrism once more, wondering how that strange liquid really worked. His eyes slowly edged towards the doorknob, which he placed his hand firmly upon. "Gerald, can you open this?"

"It's a dead end," the old man replied. "There's nothing for you beyond here."

"Fine," Shadow placed the bottle on the bookshelf beside the door. "I'm leaving this here for you then."

"Thanks."

Shadow contemplating leaving again, but realized he couldn't now. There was nothing out there at all; there'd be no point. "Do you really believe in miracles?"

"It's the only thing I can hope for now…" A downhearted grunt, and: "The gods are still here, Shadow. You know that. _Anything_ can happen in Sonic Hill."

"Yeah…but what happened here anyway?"

"You know the answer to that question too," Gerald said matter-of-factly. "After all, you _were_ made in this town."

That hit home. An anguished frown formed on Shadow's face. The truth hurt. It hurt a lot. "Yeah…"

"Well, maybe 'made' isn't the right word for it. You're not quite like the other demons…" Not acknowledging Shadow's plight, Gerald spoke in almost a whisper. "…born. You were _born _in this town."

Overcome with sadness at his revelation, the hedgehog had not a clue of how to reply.

Gerald seemed to notice. "I'm sorry Shadow…"

"No, don't be," Looking down and closing his eyes, the hedgehog gave a weak, wry smile. "I knew it already…just didn't realize it."

"I know how that is."

He bit his lip. He only had one undying question left that needed to be answered for him, though he feared he knew the answer to that one too. "Gerald, I have one last question."

"What is it?"

"Who's Tails?"

"Tails…?" There was another long period of silence, in which the man seemed to be pressing himself hard for the answer. "Oh, you must mean Miles."

"Miles?"

"That Miles, he's been a bad, bad boy…" he spoke with a slight hint of amusement. "He's looking for the you that _isn't_ you."

Shadow wondered what he meant. "You mean…Sonic?"

"Yes."

"Because he's kind…?"

"Perhaps. Or maybe because he's afraid."

Shadow frowned and stared forward at the door. Everything was beginning to make sense. "I think I understand."

"Shadow, do you believe in destiny?"

He answered quickly; too quickly. "No."

Light chuckling could be heard from the other end of the door. "Heh…I used to not believe either when I was younger. But over these last few years, I've come to believe that maybe some of us really are born with a particular purpose, a certain fate, which we solely exist and live out our lives for."

The hedgehog gulped, feeling endless despair smother his feeble wishes. "But what happens when we carry out that purpose…?"

"Heh, that's a good question Shadow," Though he couldn't see it, Shadow felt that Gerald was smiling from behind that door. "I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Yeah, me too."

"Shadow…thank you…"

Taking in a deep breath, Shadow sadly replied: "No, thank _you_..."

There was nothing more to say. Wrapping his gloved fingers nervously around the doorknob, Shadow turned it and pushed it open, revealing what lie beyond the door.

Dark blue drapes, dusty with age, hung down upon the boarded up windows. Each limped down to the carpeted floor, equally worn with age.

(_dont cry_)

Dead lights clung to the ceiling, far surpassing their lifetime. They left the room shrouded in a dismal layer of darkness. On the right wall, the form of what used to be a king-sized bed lay stripped and beaten on its once beautifully crafted post.

(_dont cry_)

In the room's center, beside an old-fashioned wooden chair, a circular table stood proud. Carved across its perimeter were various symbols and writings, showing off its perfected craftsmanship just like the rest of the abandoned mansion.

(_dont cry…_)

Placing his hand over his face, Shadow the hedgehog burst into tears. Tears of sorrow and regret at knowing the real truth, which he'd hidden from himself all along. His gloves were soaked in seconds, overwhelmed by his exposed sorrow. It was too much to bear all at once…

Gerald was right - there was nothing left for him here. With his face contorted in despair, he slowly exited the study for the final time.

On the surface of the old table, beside a newly burnt out candle, lay a single, colorful birthday card.

_-_

_-Clop…_

_-Clop…_

_-Clop…_

_-Clop…_

The cool air brushed through his dark fur, chilling him slightly despite his natural coat of warmth. Regardless, he paid no mind to the weather. In fact, he barely even noticed it. His mind had dived too deep into an altered state to acknowledge where he was.

He didn't know how long he'd been wandering around, nor care. Somewhere along the way, his leather jacket had slipped off from around his waist and fallen behind, along with his belongings. Only the magnum revolver, gripped firmly in his hand, remained. That was all he still needed.

'_Even if I'm not real, it's still me, Shadow, isn't it…?_'

He honestly didn't know. He felt he'd never know. Stopping, he stared ahead into the gray fog blanketing the street. '_But if no one knows who I am, and _I _don't know who I am…do I really even exist?_'

To think he'd felt lost, alone, and confused ere entering themansion. Now the idea of his ignorance all those hours ago seemed like bliss. Warily, he stared downwards to the single revolver in his hand. The Bad Thought crossed his mind, and it seemed like a beautiful idea.

'_One bullet left…_'

But was he really so brave as to do it?

After short consideration, he realized: yes. Yes he was. He had not a thing to be afraid of.

'_No one will find my body anyway._'

Obviously. Just like the other monsters, he'd probably disappear.

He spun the revolver chamber around, hearing the rapid clicks as its doorways to death opened and closed over and over. One out of six or six out of six, he'd be bitten by the bullet either way. Slowly, he raised the revolver to his face, placing the head of the weapon against his right temple—

(_its just too hard to be alone_)

—and shut his eyes tight. That deadly carousel began to spin. Taking in a deep, shakybreath, he squeezed the trigger tightly.

_-CLICK!_

_-cli-clink_

…

…

…

_-CLICK!_

_-cli-clink_

…

…

_-CLICK!_

_-cli-clink_

…

…

…

_-CLICK!_

_-cli-clink_

…

…

…

_-CLICK!_

_-cli-clink_

…

…

…

His eyes opened wide.

Reconsidering his plot, he edged the revolver away from his head and stared back down at it thoughtfully. No, he couldn't go. Not yet.

But why...?

After staring at it for what felt like hours, he decided he knew why. With the flick of his wrist, he tossed the gun away. It thudded somewhere from afar, long gone to him forever.

He didn't have the map any longer, but he didn't need it. He knew where to go, and was pretty sure of what he had to do. That was fine. Whatever lie ahead, he'd just have to face it on his own. He didn't care how hard it'd be. Rosewater Park was only a few blocks away…so perhaps there was something to live for after all.

"Tails…"

Crimson eyes staring straight ahead, Shadow the hedgehog headed towards the park…

-

-

-

-

"_Sonic?_"

…

"_No…you're not…_"

"_Do I look like your boyfriend?_"

"_Uh…I…how'd you…yeah, my late boyfriend. But he died…_"

…

"_I can't believe it! You could be his twin! Your face…your build…only your fur and spikes are different…_"

"_My name is Shadow. I don't look like a ghost, do I?_"

**_Fin._**


End file.
